Year 2075 – Superman is shaken
By Elder Barry - erctwo@aol.com
The faux-superhero is overwhelmed by a female alien


YEAR 2075 - SUPERMAN FAILS

(The Earth is Doomed)

A very confused and addled brained man awoke from a deep sleep not knowing
where he was nor who he might be. The disoriented man possessed no concrete
memories of his past life; nothing, nada, zilch; only an occasional hazy image
of a man flying among the clouds clad in a red and blue body suit.

That image percolated around in the recesses of his discombobulated mind
engendering the ameliorations of even more shrouded memories. He experienced
frightening remembrances of a bevy of big beautiful busty bicep blessed blonde
babes bashing his broken body beating him to a bloody pulp.

Deep in reflective thought the man came to understand that it was more likely
that he had been accosted, beaten and thrashed into submission by just one
female rather than a bevy of brutish babes. He had come to the realization
that the muscular blonde was ubiquitous; so fast, so strong, and so mean she
seemed to be everywhere all at once. One thing was crystal clear; he hadn't
been able to compete with her, whomever she was.

On this particular day the man was tranquil reclining comfortably on what
appeared to be a well-appointed hospital bed; blonde females were the furthest
thing from his mind. He glanced around the sterile environment focusing his
attention on the large picture window that dominated the room.

He was impressed by the size of the towering twin towers looming above an
unrecognizable city landscape far off in the distance. The two imposing towers
which seemed suspiciously out of place exceeded the height of every other
existing structure in the vicinity by 200 to 300 feet or maybe even more.

"Hello Clark." The raven-haired nurse who appeared to be at least
six-feet-tall had called him by a name something she hadn't done before.

His psychiatrist, Doctor Person was a practitioner of psychotherapy burdened
with the awesome responsibility of treating and rehabilitating the recovering
man without damaging him further. The doctor hadn't thought it wise nor
prudent to burden the deeply traumatized man with the knowledge of his alien
origins nor with his personal history nor with the gory details of his
cousin's brutal death ... better for him to remember organically.

Nonetheless, when necessary, Superman would be made aware of his past and the
crucial undertaking the governments of the world and the citizens of the
planet would be demanding of him.

"Hi Amanda." The man startled himself by not only using her name but by also
recalling their relationship. She was now and had for some time been assisting
him with his numerous physical therapy exercises; cardio, running on a tread
mill, push up, pull ups, standing on each leg, bending, squatting, jumping,
push-ups, pull-ups, sit-ups, power walks as well as some very serious
heavy-duty muscle building weight lifting along with all manner of martial
arts training and karate disciplines.

The man took a long prideful moment to admire his own massive physique;
six-foot-eight, three-hundred-twenty-nine-pounds of rock-solid muscle with
biceps approaching fifty-two-inches in diameter.

The man's heretofore repressed memories were slowly becoming more and more
lucid and vivid. He now knew that his name was Clark. Building on that bit of
new knowledge he somehow ascertained that the rest of his name was Kent, he
was Clark Kent. Suddenly he realized he had once been special, someone with
extraordinary physical gifts, someone with superior strength, someone whose
memories had otherwise been blocked.

He greedily devoured his lunch; two double bacon cheese burgers, a double
order of garlic fries, onion rings, three soft shelled beef tacos, a large
diet coke followed by another, and a more than generous wedge of hot apple pie
topped with two large scoops of melting vanilla ice cream. Still famished he
ordered and devoured a second helping of everything.

A motivated Clark Kent silently launched himself into his afternoon physical
therapy exercises with renewed vigor expending all of the energy he possessed
with a new found dedication and passion thus earning not often received kudos
from Amanda Lovinggood.

Invigorated by the rigorous exercises which were increasing exponentially on a
daily basis Clark returned to his hospital bed, devoured a couple of
power-bars and a thirty-two-ounce energy drink. With thirst quenched he
immediately descended into the inviting and comforting arms of Morpheus, the
Greek God of sleep and dreams.

Totally immersed in the nadirs of his dreamworld Clark was hovering above a
most disturbing scene. He watched himself being wheeled out of his current
hospital room by two very tall busty female nurses who exhibited impressive
biceps that were threatening to burst through the skin of their taut upper
arms.

The two muscle babes were inexplicably walking backwards in slow motion
pulling the gurney along with them; he realized what he was viewing wasn't a
dream it was more akin to a rerun of an unpleasant remembrance.

The tableau in front of him abruptly changed and once again Superman was
mesmerized as he watched a six-foot-ten-inch well-built overly-muscled
astonishing beautiful female stalking him around a boxing ring. He somehow
realized that he was fighting for more than just himself. Somehow, he knew he
was about to embark on a quest; a mano-on-mano battle for nothing less than
the sovereignty of his adopted home planet.

The overly confident citizenry of Earth had complete faith in Superman's
ability to protect them from any eventuality. Afterall, over the years the man
had never failed them. He had always managed to protect the planet and uphold
the tenants of his own personal credo ... truth, justice, and the American
way.

The supremely confident Earthlings organized watch parties around the world.
Everyone was ready to party and celebrate the impending victory that would
ensure the planet's continued independence from the race of alien aggressors.

The combatants met in the middle of the ring. The female's smiling face
mesmerized all of those who gazed upon her and Superman could feel himself
getting aroused. As was the tradition on earth the two met in middle of the
ring and clasped hands. The female immediately exerted unimaginable
overwhelming power crushing most of the bones in Superman's hand sending him
sprawling to his knees in obvious pain. Earthly viewers were initially
confused and ultimately terrified.

The muscular female alien oppressor had easily dominated Superman as no other
had ever done. The Kryptonian Superhero who had always been invulnerable to
physical pain, immune to discomfort of any kind was experiencing actual
excruciating pain, pain with which he knew not how to deal. He craned his neck
way back looking up at the giant female and felt enfeebled unable to cope with
the alien whom he later learned was named Ostara.

She arrogantly pranced around the boxing ring on her toes as she mercilessly
pounded his face and body with both of her powerful hands, as well as her
elbows and her knees until he grudgingly succumbed to her unrelenting physical
onslaught. Nearly unconscious his failing body crumpled collapsing face first
to the canvass ... She rolled him over on his back, placed her right foot in
the middle of his chest, and double flexed her huge biceps in a display of
absolute dominance.

"NO ... Not yet super wimp." Holding him firmly by his ankles Ostara lifted
the red and blue clad man high into the air. She giggled like an amused child
before driving the pathetic excuse for a man head first into the canvass
several times until his upper torso had embedded itself into the ring mat
leaving only his flailing legs visible.

Superman felt as if he were dreaming but try as he might he couldn't awaken
himself. In his dream he was aware of a new quasi-reality in which Superman
was no longer omnipotent, no longer impervious to pain, no longer super.

His diminished self was being effortlessly and soundly defeated by a
relentless all-powerful female space alien; a female who had easily toyed with
him as if she were a snarling house cat tormenting a frightened squealing
little mouse.

Superman was convinced that the female had been blessed with Goddess like
super powers. He needed to believe that this female was an omnipotent deity
because it would be far less shameful for him to be defeated by an actual
Goddess ... He imagined her to be nothing less than a demi-god the progeny of
an actual God and a humanoid (Messierian) ... which as it turned out was
prescient ...

Eons ago the planet Messier became the sexual playground and a breeding ground
for the randy sexually aggressive male Gods of Olympus ... For many centuries
the fertile comely females gladly offered themselves to the deities. Infused
with the DNA of the Gods the Demi-Goddesses proliferated soon becoming the
dominant species on the planet; Messierian females were divided into two
sperate categories - warrior goddesses and breeders.

The man who had once been thought of as Super now appeared to be rather
ordinary alongside an actual Goddess. He realized that as a result of his
ignominious defeat his adopted home planet of Earth would be subservient to
the rulers of Messier for the next fifty years, the home planet of the
genetically superior Ostara.

Deeply rooted in the depths of his mind he could hear the alien Super Woman
intone in a charming melodic sing-song-voice ... 'sweet dreams Kal El ...
sweet dreams.'

Ostara propped up the beaten and beleaguered Man of Squeal positioning him in
an elevated ring-side viewing chair allowing or forcing the deeply depressed
Superman to watch that which was to come next.

Because of his shameful performance, Superman hadn't managed to land a punch.
Hell, he hadn't even thrown one measly punch. The self-proclaimed 'Protector
of the Planet' was riddled with mind numbing soul crushing shame, guilt and
remorse ... and he feared the worst was yet to come.

Even in his dream the name Kal El was new to him. Also new to him was the
appearance of a beautiful young girl wearing a red and blue costume similar to
his own. She was being referred to as Supergirl and likely a relative. With a
courageous display of compassion she tossed in a white towel of surrender
stopping the fight and at least temporarily ending the carnage.

However, under the agreed upon rules of engagement when Supergirl stopped the
fight she had essentially volunteered herself to substitute in her cousin's
stead. She knew, even if he didn't, she was both a more skilled fighter than
he and considerably stronger as well.

Having seen the alien's overwhelming power Kara was weary. However, she had a
plan ... if things went badly for her she would simply fly off to safety. When
they met in the middle of the ring Ostara grabbed Kara's hand and never let
her go. Kara would never get the chance to fly away.

Superman had been forced to watch helplessly as the heartless Ostara
ruthlessly destroyed his cousin body and soul delivering a countless barrage
of fists, elbows, knees, as well as head butts coupled with bone crushing
submission holds; all without any real resistance coming from the girl the
earthlings inexplicably thought of as super.

"You are so damn cute." Ostara embraced Supergirl in a powerful bearhug,
lifted her off the ground, and planted an open-mouthed wet kiss on the lips of
the surprised daughter of Krypton. Kara's legs buckled beneath her and even as
her body was being racked with unspeakable levels of excruciating pain she was
becoming sexually aroused. Her vaginal walls grew moist and she involuntarily
contracted and spasmed; surrendering to the irresistible magnetism of the
beautiful alien being ... Kara's climax was blissful despite the pain.

Ostara had done her research learning that for the most part the women of this
planet were at the very least bi-curios, if not full lesbians. Ostara could
feel Kara responding to her, going limp in her arms.

"What do you know. Earth girls are easy." Satisfied that she had successfully
seduced the fawning female the big alien blonde grabbed Kara by the ankles and
began to violently slam her down on the canvass over and over again.

The depressed Superman was paralyzed with fear, guilt, and shame as he watched
teary eyed from his ringside seat. He would forever be haunted by the acts of
debauchery wantonly being meted out; a memory so dreadful, so horrific that
the traumatized man would repress and block out the repulsive events of that
night for much of the next fifty years.

Kal El could see the physically depleted Kara crawling on her belly unable to
protect herself from the alien menace and all he could do was watch in horror.
Supergirl valiantly but piteously pawed at the feet of her all-powerful
conqueror still valiantly attempting to represent Earth against the invaders.
There was no quit in the overmatched Kryptonian girl and Ostara grudgingly
admired her pluck.

Nonetheless, the alien demi-Goddess showed Kara no mercy and stomped on her
trembling hands; breaking numerous fingers just for the fun of it. Had the
alien warrior been born on earth she would have been immediately diagnosed as
a demented narcissistic psychopath completely devoid of empathy or any other
emotion with a complete lack of remorse or shame. On Earth Ostara would likely
have been medicated and institutionalized. However, on Messier the goddess was
the ideal warrior soldier.

Superman could see Kara's big blue-eyes searching for help, pleading for
mercy. Ostara continued to joyfully dominate his helpless cousin within an
inch of her life purposefully and needlessly prolonging her suffering mostly
for his benefit.

Unfortunately for 'The Last Daughter of Krypton' 'The Last Son of Krypton'
would be of no help to her. There would be no one there to save her, no one in
her corner, no one available to toss in the white towel of surrender. She
would be at the mercy of a woman who clearly had no mercy.

In a final display of an inexplicable act of arrogance and unspeakable cruelty
Ostara forcibly gripped Supergirl's lovely but distressed face and head with
both of her strong hands and smiled to herself knowing full well what was
about to ensue.

"You may wish to close your eyes." She screamed out a warning to the crowd.
"What is about to follow is not for the eyes of the squeamish."

For the entirety of her life Supergirl had been invulnerable, impervious to
pain. Until that moment she had never even considered her mortality but the
more Kara struggled against Ostara her resolve continued to wane A stark bleak
darkness engulfed her mind diminishing her consciousness and all of her
senses. Kara gracefully accepted that her life forces were slowly and
excruciatingly being extinguished by the alien Goddess and for the first time
the Kryptonian wondered if there were an afterlife awaiting her.

Ignoring the Maiden of Might's fearful screams of terror and pitiable moans of
anguish Ostara began to squeeze and squeeze and then squeeze some more until
Supergirl's head began to lose all semblance of its human shape distorting
itself beyond recognition dissolving and splattering into the unrecognizable
icky sticky gushy gooey remnants of her brain tissues.

The world was horrified, Superman was horrified as were the members of the
arena crowd who fraught with emotions were shrieking, weeping, and wailing in
dismay. Many exited the packed venue in a panic screaming while many of those
who remained were transfixed. They started to vomit as the alien-super-being
began to scoop up the vestiges of Supergirl's brain matter into her cupped
hands. Ostara greedily slurped down and sucked up Kara's brains and cranial
fluids directly into her mouth as one might shuck oysters on the half shell.

The loathsome alien monstrosity approached Superman, smiled directly at the
thoroughly embarrassed weeping man of squeal, and enjoyed her impromptu meal.
She emulated an unworldly ravenous predatory animal as she bayed and howled to
the heavens.

"Superman. I've decided not to kill you tonight." She sneered at the beaten
man as she spit out a chunk of Kara's brain matter into her hand and forced it
between his lips into his mouth. "Better to let you live with the memory of
your cowardness and your cousin's ultimate sacrifice."

As the bloody goop trickled from her mouth and down her chin, Ostara flexed
her mighty biceps achieving incalculable size and dimension. She bellowed a
scream of victory loud enough to shatter a number of the arena windows as well
as forty-seven mirrors thus ensuring 329 years of bad luck for the billions of
earthly citizens watching.

Ostara hadn't been chosen by the Messierian Over-Lords to represent her race
simply because of her prodigious size. Yes, she was outrageously muscular but
on her planet many females were larger than she, many were stronger than she,
and several others were substantively more proficient fighters than she.

However, none of her contemporaries were as fierce as she, nor as mean as she,
or more lacking in empathy than she. No one was more willing to wantonly
eviscerate inferior beings just for sport.

"Next?" Ostara climbed atop the upper strands of the ring ropes and beckoned
to the crowd daring anyone to come forward, daring anyone to stand up to her.

"Who among you dares challenge me?" She laughed some more. "You, Superman?" He
lowered his eyes in shame.

By displaying her unquestioned superiority over the cowering humans, the alien
was essentially intimidating the entire planet and everyone living there on
thus ensuring unquestioned obedience from the masses.

Superman awoke disoriented with little or no memory of the nightmare that had
haunted him nearly every night for the past fifty years. The dream had left
him shuddering with fear soaking wet and drenched in his own fetid malodorous
sweat and bodily emanations; both urine and ejaculate. He retreated to the
bathroom weeping, bemoaning his incontinence. He cleaned himself as best he
could before returning to his bed.

That morning Clark Kent awoke feeling stronger than just strong. Hoping to
unravel the enigma that shrouded his recollections he was anxious to speak
with Dr. Person. While sitting in the good Doctor's waiting room Clark scanned
several vintage Superman comic books, no doubt left there for his edification
and that's when the proverbial comic-book thought bubbles illuminated his
remembrances

The memories that he had suppressed for half a century had, at least
temporarily, flooded back into his consciousness and they were anything but
pleasant. He was both embarrassed and ashamed with his humbling failed efforts
vis-a-vie protecting his cousin and his impotent attempts while attempting to
combat the alien female. He was distraught recalling Kara's horrific death and
her post-mortem defilement.

He remembered it all ... the incandescent light bulb suspended over the head
of the comic-book Superman was revealing everything. He recalled in great
detail his Kryptonian origins, his vow to protect his adopted home planet from
violent incursive space alien invaders, from both foreign and domestic
terrorists, from his arch nemesis super-villain Lex Luther and his army of
mega enhanced goons, as well as the ever-proliferating home-grown scofflaws
and various other evil- doers.

Speaking of Lex Luther. The evil genius had developed an anti-aging serum that
extended his life by several decades while keeping him looking and feeling
young; a serum he steadfastly refused to share with others.

As was his want the day the aliens arrived the opportunist Luther attempted to
ingratiate himself with the invaders by offering his services to assist them
in any way he could. An extremely insulted muscular seven-foot Messierian
female unceremoniously crushed Luther with her bare hands, ripped him apart as
one would debone a big turkey, slow-roasted the aged meat, and then served him
up as the entr�e at her dinner party.

Clark Kent, is, or was, Superman ... The strongest man in the world ... A
native of the planet Krypton ... The last son of Krypton ... Imbued with
superpowers ... Virtually Indestructible and impervious to pain possessing
regenerative healing abilities ... The Protector of the Planet ... The
guardian of Metropolis ... The Man of Steel ...

Hyperbole aside, he suddenly came to the realization that he had once been one
bad ass super dude with a noble purpose ... destined for greatness ... but not
on that night. On that night, in his mind, he was revealed to be a frightened
fraud who had failed his cousin and all of human kind in their hour of need.

He shuttered recalling his near nightly nightmarish nightmares remembrances of
frightful one-sided beatings at the hands of arrogant smirking females all of
whom seemed to delight in overpowering and embarrassing him where ever and
whenever they could; in boxing rings, in private one-on-one confrontations,
and in public. Superman watched himself being rendered helpless while being
eviscerated by a coven of nattering merciless females.

Clark had no way of knowing if his fuzzy recollections of the ruthless blondes
were real or simply manifestations of fifty years of dreaming about the severe
beating he had suffered at the hands of the genetically superior
6-foot-10-inch alien blonde female who had so easily overwhelmed him by
mercilessly hammering him into oblivion.

Kal-El, the last Son of Krypton, had ascertained for himself with a little
help from nurse Lovinggood that for most of the preceding fifty years he had
been in a cryogenically suspended state of animation subjected to zombie like
rigorous twelve hour a day training and workout sessions designed to not only
build strength and muscle but also to familiarize him with every form of
hand-to-hand combat known to man.

Now, for the first time Clark Kent took a close analytical look at his current
situation and began to ask himself questions, serious questions, probing
questions, questions he would pose to his doctor, questions demanding truthful
no-nonsense answers.

"Why?"

As he entered Dr. Person's office the Man of Steal without preamble stripped
away his sleepwear and effected the most amazing double-bicep-flex ever
performed on earth; his fully flexed enhanced fifty-two-inch pulsating biceps
perfectly complimented his six-foot-eight-inch muscular frame.

"I demand an explanation from you and I want it right now." Superman had
unconsciously affected his iconic power stance with hands on hips, shoulders
back, chest held high with legs akimbo.

"Certainly. You deserve that much and more." Doctor Person spoke to Superman
in an emotionless monotone voice as if he were reciting a well-practiced
speech that covered the events of the past fifty years.

The doctor began his dissertation from the beginning which as it turned out it
was nearly the end for Superman himself. Just as he had been dreaming a mega
powerful seemingly indestructible Alien female warrior calling herself Ostara
had arrived on earth in an impenetrable technologically advanced space craft
from the planet Messier located in the heretofore unknown Triangulum Galaxy
... one of the believed to be two trillion galaxies in the observable
universe.

An advanced technologically superior armada of Messierian space craft suddenly
appeared to the skies. The ships had traveled unfathomable distances at
incalculable speeds; faster than the speed of light (FTL) generating folds
within the intergalactic space time continuum that bent and curved the very
fabric of space itself facilitating instantaneous quantum leaps from one
universe to another ... from one galaxy to another - from one planet to
another ...

Representing her race and speaking for the Messierian Over-Lords, Ostara
presented the leaders and representatives of Earth with three separate
ultimatums:

Surrender your sovereignty to Messier.

Engage in a fruitless unwinnable war sacrificing millions of lives.

Agree to a single combat confrontation between each planet's champion thus
avoiding a costly and pointless all-out war.

The latter proposal demanded serious consideration from earth's leaders and
was not without merit nor precedent in Earth's long history. As far back as
the Middle Ages champions were often selected from opposing armies to engage
in single combat contests in lieu of wars or epic battles; think David and the
giant Goliath, Menelaus and Paris, Achilles and Hector, and so on.

Dr. Person emphasized to Superman that he, the Man of Steel from the planet
Krypton, had immediately volunteered to represent Earth in mortal combat. He
was elected by acclimation of all United Nations countries to do battle
against the champion from Messier; a six-foot-ten-inch overly muscled female.

The entire world was supremely confident that Superman, who had never failed
to prevail before, would again 'protect the planet' from harm. Even before the
inter-galactic fight had begun wild victory celebrations broke everywhere. The
citizens of earth had not a scintilla of doubt that in the eventual outcome;
surely Superman could beat up a girl.

The doctor didn't go into great detail but suffice to say he explained that it
hadn't been much of a fight. From the outset Ostara demonstrated her vast
superiority, her 'unworldly' strength, her overwhelming power, and her
unmatched fighting skills. The Doctor didn't say it to him but she had dealt
with the great Superman as one might deal with a redheaded step child; with
utter contempt and distain.

Essentially Superman was defeated long before the match had even begun. She
completely dominated the contest and within a couple of scant minutes she had
reduced 'The Superman' into a quivering blob of human waste. The confrontation
had ended swiftly with the Earth's champion in a deep coma; momentarily saved
from certain death by the compassionate actions of his brave cousin.

Complying with the rules of engagement Earth immediately surrendered to
Messier and within a few days an occupational force landed on earth
establishing an authoritarian government that literally controlled each and
every aspect of life on the third planet from the sun in the Milky Way Galaxy.

Dr. Person explained to the Kryptonian that he had been preserved in a near
fifty yearlong medically induced coma. For the bulk of those fifty years the
Man of Steel was intravenously fed specifically engineered nutritional
superfoods, a myriad of various supplements and vitamins, as well as numerous
drugs including Human Growth Hormones and the most powerful anabolic muscle
building steroids known to and engineered by man.

Inexplicably the repressed memories of that night returned to him this time
permanently. Superman was well beyond simply experiencing hearth breaking
anguish; his ineptitude and shame would torment him for a thousand lifetimes.
Even though he had been paralyzed with fear, he had prayed that Rao his
Kryptonian God would somehow someway afford him an opportunity and the
strength he would need to avenge Kara's brutal maiming, her inglorious death,
and the post-mortem defilement.

An almost demonically obsessed Superman dedicated every waking moment of the
next six months of his life to the most extreme 24/7 muscle building work out
regimens imaginable. He flew to Jupiter the largest planet in the solar
system, a planet with six times the gravitational pull as earth, a place where
a 100-pound weight on earth translated to a minimum of 600-pounds on Jupiter.
Accordingly, his weightlifting exercises would increase and benefit his muscle
building proficiency by a factor of six hundred percent.

On a daily basis the fanatically dedicated man would lift tons and tons of
rocks, boulders, and virtual mountains, fling them high into the air allowing
them to crash down onto his body strengthening his core beyond one's
comprehension.

For fun Superman would chase down, grab onto, and then crush small meteors,
mini-comets, and other large particles of space debris into nothing but dust.

He would slather steroidal creams all over his body and orally ingest more and
more Designer Anabolic Steroids, Human Growth Hormones (HGH) pills as well as
numerous other Performance Enhancing Drugs (PED) all designed and engineered
by earth scientists and medical technicians to not only increase one's
strength and body mass but one's height as well.

Dr. Person and the governments of the world were presenting Superman with the
opportunity to avenge his cousin's death and make amends for his own failures.
He vowed that this time he, the Man of Steel, would be ready. This time the
Man of Steel felt confident he was more than a match for anything or anyone
the Messierians could pit against him.

For the most part the population of earth had remained passive, subserviate,
and compliant. Earthlings not knowing what else they could do or what actions
they could take almost immediately accepted the status quo and looked upon the
Messierians as their unquestioned Lords and Masters.

However, all over the planet a number of macho individuals, profoundly stupid
macho individuals, would on occasion take it upon themselves to challenge a
Messierian female to a fight always with the same outcome. The alien female
would invariably inflict cruel debilitating 'quality of life injuries' often
permanently crippling but never killing the aggressive Earthlings. Naturally,
over the years similar instances diminished perceptibly.

Nearly nine percent of the earthlings (approximately 72,000,000 citizens) were
so impressed with the unequaled technological advantages, enamored with, and
enthralled by the physically superior aliens that many among them considered
Messierians to be omnipotent all-powerful Gods, Gods who deserved to be
revered, paid fealty to, and worshipped unconditionally.

Each year on the fourth of July a number of huge transport ships from Messier
descended on various large cities around the world and collected tribute in
the form of minerals and raw materials, food stuffs (sugars, cooking oils,
dairy products), precious metals, and approximately one million civilians
shipping everything and everyone to the mother planet to provide for and work
alongside the new GODS.

After the fifth annual shipment of materials and another one million
earthlings to Messier the Internet exploded with rumors alleging wrongdoings
while spreading rumors relative to the fate of the deportees, none of whom had
ever returned to Earth. Surveys showed that over 80% of those polled believed
that the natural resources of Planet Earth were systematically being pillaged
and drained by the oppressors.

Despite suspicions and allegations in-depth investigations of Cannibalism
remained just that; unsubstantiated allegations and suspicions. The intensive
probes failed to uncover any evidence supporting the theories. Accordingly,
life on earth continued unabated until the arrival of fiftieth anniversary of
Earth's 'liberation'.

The most salacious and disturbing allegations centered on the premise that the
Messierians were cannibals claiming that the millions and millions of
deportees from Earth were nothing more than a food source for the aliens. This
rumor initially gained traction when Ostara the original visitor from Messier
ostentatiously ate Supergirl's brains in front of the entire world as the
alien warrior declared victory over Earth's last hope.

The Messierians ingratiated themselves to a huge swath of the population when
they established hundreds of medical clinics all offering free universal
health care to one an all. In addition, they fully endorsed and facilitated
the practice of abortions and established medical clinics around the world.
Females had dominated and ruled planet Messier for centuries so it wasn't
surprising to learn that the women of that planet would want to and had taken
control of their own bodies visa-vie the right to choose. The female warriors
of the planet routinely aborted their progenies leaving the birthing duties to
the breeders.

Religious people on Earth, particularly American Evangelicals, were incensed
with the edict but they couldn't realistically do anything about it other than
pray and of course buy more and more guns

the voracious still only rumored to be cannibals from outer space had a
self-serving ulterior motive. A well-preserved aborted human fetus was a
delicacy on planet Messier, a delicacy reserved for the fanciest of the fancy
restaurants, for the wealthiest of the wealth and the most decerning gourmets
as well as for the elite of all elites; politician, athletes, and of course
the prettiest of the pretty people.

Nonetheless, large swatches of the population began to emulate the superior
alien beings by embracing cannibalism hoping to achieve Messierian
musculature; huge muscles and unworldly strength. However, when the hoped-for
results were not forthcoming and salmonella like systems developed most
earthlings quickly abandoned the dietary experiment as poppycock.

A large contingent of scholastically superior Messierian high school and
college students had been rewarded with and treated to an exploratory junket
to the 'Great State of Texas' for a weekend of cultural exchanges and that's
when the proverbial shit hit the fan and suspicions became a reality.

Predictably Internet bloggers and satirists took great delight in reminding
their more discerning readers that the coupling of words like Texas and
cultural anything was an anathema akin to an oxymoron; something like jumbo
shrimp or military intelligence or 'rap and music.'

Early in the day a smallish na�ve five-foot-three-inch one-hundred-pound
Messierian boy named Batty Cosmos wondered into a barn where a number of 'good
old' Texas boys were gathered around drinking beer while preparing food for
the afternoon barbeque.

Antonio 'Tex' Barbarino the largest and dumbest teenager in the barn, maybe
even the entire State was at the moment just this side of stupid black-out
drunk. Tex was oblivious to most everything in the world but he knew one
thing. Tex knew that while the much larger outrageously proportioned
Messierian females were stronger than earthlings by far and they were all
smoking hot. He also understood that the males of said planet were puny shits
and as such were easy prey for someone like himself.

Big Tex immediately realized he was being presented with a once in a life time
opportunity; an opportunity for vengeance, an opportunity for retaliation for
the indignities being thrust upon not only him but also the people of planet
earth.

"Shut the damn door." Tex directed his grinning partners to close the barn
door. He was about to exact a measure of payback for his many grievances and
frustrations. He grabbed the frightened boy's arm and twisted it up behind his
back. Throwing the terrified Batty to the ground Tex began to reign a number
of powerful blows down on the back of the boy's head while his mates applauded
wildly.

Buoyed by his mates' enthusiastic reactions Tex roughly pulled the youngster's
pants down around his ankles fully intending to ass rape the boy.

"Stop that forthwith." A relatively small five-foot-seven-inch blonde girl
from Messier named Aurora Cosmos burst through the wooden door of the barn and
confronted a shirtless Tex Barbarino and the other boys. The girl leveled her
gleaming incandescent lilac colored eyes in big Tex's direction displaying a
no-nonsense glare.

She was wearing American made hot pants displaying her long tanned legs and a
blue and white Dallas Maverick's basketball jersey that allowed the girl to
flaunt her relaxed 14" muscular bare arms with obvious and well-deserved
pride.

"Forthwith?" Antonio and the boys laughed at the relatively smallish alien
girl's use of an arcane word like 'forthwith'. Tex was in no way intimidated
by the girl who to him looked tiny. He flexed his arms revealing his own
twenty-two-inch biceps. He stood 6-6 and weighed well over 330 pounds dwarfing
her. He arrogantly removed his huge Sicilian penis from his pants and began
waving it in the direction of the bitch.

"Young lady." The muscular Texan smugly beckoned to her as he smirked
defiantly. "Do you want a piece of this Texas meat instead?" He yanked on his
impressive penis making it seem even larger.

"Thank you but no." Her piercing eyes remained unblinking as sweat beaded on
her forehead. The Messierian girl tensed every muscle in her lithe but power
packed body. Her now flexed arms and shoulders bulged and swelled to
cartoonish proportions with her pulsating biceps peaking at 18 1/2".

Using her shoulder Aurora effortlessly knocked the now panicky boy to the
ground and using her strong hands quickly grabbed for and forcibly took
possession of his penis. The earthling was easily twice the size of the
largest of the Messierian males she had encountered. She gently kneaded the
pleasantly surprised boy's cock which quickly grew harder and even larger
which pleased Aurora immensely because she was ravenous.

For leverage Cosmos placed her right foot in the middle of the startled
Barbarino's chest and in a nano-second began to squeeze, twist, and pull on
his manhood until with minimum effort she had managed to rip his bleeding
shaft away from his scrotum.

Antonio 'Tex' Barbarino, holding onto his suddenly dick-less crotch, rolled
over on his stomach, assumed the fetal position, and unleashed a continuous
bloodcurdling scream whilst the alien girl mercilessly held his detached blood
gushing penis in front of his tearing eyes as she sucked the blood off his
detached member.

Aurora still holding the detached appendage in her hand plunged his penis into
the deep fryer's cooking oils that were boiling at 350 degrees Fahrenheit
rendering any chance of reattachment mute. She plunged the bloody penis into
the boiling hot oil keeping it there until its outer skin plumbed up and
became crispy much like an actual fully 'cooked' Italian sausage.

One of the many hidden Messierian security cameras, which by the way were
ubiquitous throughout the land, captured the confrontation on video alerting
local security personnel of the violent incident.

The nubile Cosmos splayed the man's cock using only her long finger nails. She
sucked the blood from her fingers, grabbed a lightly grilled sour-dough hot
dog bun, applied a generous helping of sauteed sweet peppers and onions adding
a dallop of minced garlic as well as a splash of spicey honey brown mustard.

The giggling girl gently placed the earthling's detached mega-penis into the
bun along with the condiments and licked her lips in anticipation. Before
partaking of her gourmet meal Aurora vigorously shook her hand discarding the
remnants of the hot cooking oils that were still coating her impervious to
pain hand.

The high-born vixen mischievously conjured up a diabolic idea, a thought she
couldn't ignore, couldn't resist, a thought so barbarous in nature that the
alien teen quivered with anticipation. The mean maiden heartlessly pressed her
oil coated hand against Barbarino's skin both front and back leaving scolding
bubbling imprints of her hand on his exposed skin.

"Mistress Cosmos are you responsible for this?" A pair of local female
security officers from Messier burst on the scene with questions. They
immediately recognized Aurora as the daughter of Lady Cosmos Cramar the
planet's Supreme Vice Over-Lord.

"Yep." She giggled a bit. "You could say my fingerprints are all over it." She
protectively clutched her smaller twin brother close to her.

"Why?"

"The boy left me no choice." Aurora took a big bite of the 'Italian' sausage,
smacked her lips appreciatively, and nonchalantly wiped a glob of mustard from
her lips. "He was beating and torturing my brother, the Over-Lord's son. He
was threatening to sodomize Batty."

"Oh, okay then." That was good enough for the female security officers. "Enjoy
the remainder of your afternoon Miss Cosmos." The imposing female security
guards pointed at the writhing Texan on the ground. "We'll clean this mess up
for you."

"By the way." The largest of the security guards was hungry. "Do you have any
more of those?" The ravenous security officer pointed to the half eaten
'sausage' hoagie in her hand.

"Sorry." She giggled some more and pointed to the writhing still moaning
Texan. "He himself only had the one."

"However." Aurora pointed at the other boys who were cowering against the
wall. "You may wish to try one of those guys; you have my permission." Before
the words had escaped her mouth the boys had run out the barn door and as far
as anyone knew they were probably still running.

What seemed to be an easy routine clean-up task for the officers escalated
exponentially when a video of the entire incident found its way onto the
Internet. The video instantly went viral with several million unique hits. The
unfounded rumors relative to cannibalism were now founded and the population
of earth went ballistic.

Russian, Chinese, and American rogue computer hackers had been compiling
security videos of Messierian atrocities from the outset. Collectively they
decided that this was the opportune time and the perfect video to stream onto
the Internet. Predictably the public's outrage was widespread and the
Over-Lords took notice.

The upcoming 50th anniversary of the initial occupation of planet earth
coupled with the hundreds of newly distributed despicable videos surfacing on
the net triggered world-wide protests. The release of the compilation of
similar videos added to the tumult and hundreds of millions if not billions of
angry earthlings took to the streets in protest.

Serious civil disobedience was rampant throughout the land triggering massive
demonstrations, demonstrations demanding that the Messierians 'get out of
Dodge' and grant earth its independence. Worldwide worker strikes proliferated
and multiplied all over the planet; production was at a complete standstill.

The Messierian Over-Lords acted swiftly announcing that in order to
commemorate the 50th anniversary of the arrival, the deportation of earthlings
would be doubled to over two million citizens, a veiled but obvious threat.

In an effort to placate the populace the Over-Lords announced that a
'resurrected' cryogenically preserved and physically enhanced Superman would
again act as Earth's champion which they assumed would provide the dispirited
earthlings with a semblance of optimism; a hope that emancipation was nigh. In
order to impart a semblance of hope the Over-Lords televised a number of the
new and improved Superman's recent workouts to the masses accentuating his now
6-8 height and 329-pound muscular stature; emphasizing his now 52" biceps ...
They had yet to see the newest version of the Kryptonian Avenger.

The mere hope of freedom and independence after fifty years of oppression
might quell the people's frayed emotions.

The Over-Lords announced that the date of the fight had been moved up and was
now rescheduled for the next day at 6:00 PM Eastern Daylight Time. The fight
was expected to be the most watched spectacle in the history of the planet.

For the entirety of the 50-year span of Messierian rule the Kryptonian
Superhero had been engaged in an intense and vigorous training program
designed to build his muscles and reinvigorate his super-powers. Superman
would be earth's representative and should he defeat the champion from
Messier, Earth would again regain its independence.

The Over-Lords were confident that the numerous work stoppages, strikes,
riots, protests, and demonstrations would cease for at least the one night.
Everyone would be glued to their respective televisions and their alternate
watching devises.

The powers that be understood that the desperate populace of earth was
foolishly hoping and dreaming of a glorious victory which heightened their
delusional expectations and escalated their hopeless fantasies. The Messierian
leader understood that a crushing defeat of their champion would result in a
completely demoralized populace would be resigned to certain defeat.
Understand that to define the Messierians was futile and realize that the
continued occupation was inevitable.

The stadium was filled to capacity with over 200,000 anxious spectators not to
mention well over eight billion watching from their homes and even greater
number watching throughout the Galaxy.

Superman entered the ring wearing his modified sleeveless red and blue uniform
which accentuated his best assets, his enhanced biceps ... Now, more than
three times larger than his former self.

As soon as the crowd saw the mammoth new and improved seven-foot-eight-inch
four-hundred-thirty-six-pound Superman the assemblage roared its collective
approval with cheers so loud it brought tears to the proud Kryptonian's eyes.
Grinning confidently to the crowd Superman flexed and kissed the peaks of his
74-inch biceps.

The weight of the enormous responsibility resting on his broad shoulders was
incalculable, gargantuan in scope. The self-proclaimed Protector of the Planet
devoutly reached out to Rao, the Kryptonian God, praying he would be equal to
the task.

The cheers were replaced by a cacophony of deafening scornful boos and
vindictive jeers directed at the imposing female from Messier. The strikingly
beautiful alien life form was the granddaughter of Ostara the first
interstellar champion who had brutalized his cousin and handily defeated
Superman fifty years earlier. Until he disrobed Ostara was not aware of her
foe's overwhelming size ... It was no matter to her - She didn't appear
worried.

The stadium rocked when the announcer introduced Superman to be
seven-foot-eight with 74" biceps ... the Protector of the Planet promising he
was dedicated to the task at hand all but guaranteeing a complete victory.

Next, the disembodied voice introduced the alien female as Ostara Jr. Jr. the
progeny twice removed from the original Messierian fighting champion.

The Messierians didn't fully understand that the human custom of adding junior
to the surname of their offspring was on Earth reserved for males. However,
the Messierians appreciated the custom and insisted on adding Jr. to the
surnames of females as well. On their planet a marrying couple assumed the
surname of the female ... so for them it worked.

Superman confidently stepped forward to meet Ostara Jr. Jr. and the referee.
As was the custom on earth the combatants touched gloves and retreated to
their respective corners. The formidable female removed her robe revealing her
sculptured body, a body that defied description other than to point out that
her biceps were topped with additional muscles; double and tripled peaked
biceps were unheard of on Earth and yet.

Also, highlighting the differences in the physicality of the two disparate
alien races was Ostara's muscular abdomen which appeared to have been forged
from tempered steal by a modern-day blacksmith, an abdomen that clearly
revealed her overly developed muscular slab of twelve pack abs; four more than
on a normal human body.

She assertively slammed her fingerless MMA style gloves together nimbly
prancing in place before leaping into the air completing several front and
back flips displaying a level of agility uncommon in a person her size,
uncommon in a person any size. Using her long fingers she strummed at her
incomprehensible abdominal muscles in effect daring Superman to punch her in
the tummy.

Before her arrival on Earth Ostara Junior Junior had traveled extensively
throughout the many Galaxies visiting a number of subjugated planets of which
Earth was by far her favorite. Over the course of her many travels she
encountered numerous varying life forms everything from sentient bug and
reptile like creatures to spindly bodied large headed E.T. types. Only on
Earth did she encounter humanoids similar to herself physically and only on
Earth was her spectacular muscular physique admired, appreciated, envied, and
feared.

The formidable female paraded herself around the ring barefooted displaying
her muscular thighs and diamond shaped calves to the awestruck masses scoffing
at her larger opponent. She was wearing a micro string bikini that was nothing
more than dental floss for her ass crack with a flimsy opaque cloth flap
barely covering her genitalia while her generous gravity defying breasts and
areolas were inadequately covered with a flimsy piece of material that was
much too small for the job; not that anyone was complaining.

The jeers and taunts, the boisterous boos, and the cat-calls from the
spectators were to be expected and Ostara was delighted with her hate-filled
reception. Extremely confident in her innate abilities and her clear genetic
superiority she was exhilarated by knowing that the havoc she was about to
wreak upon the poor bastard they called Super would dash the hopes of all
earthlings; likely forever.

Superman was determined to redeem himself for his earlier defeat and exact
some measure of revenge for the fate of his cousin. The heavily muscled
seven-foot-eight Superman was determined to land the first punch. He was
nothing but a blur as he literally flew across the ring launching his
436-pounds of muscle unloading the most prodigious, faster than the speed of
sound, punch connecting directly with the point of the unsuspecting Junior
Junior's chin. The anxious on edge anticipatory audience was roaring its
collective approval ... until it wasn't.

The alien female had absorbed the totality of Superman's blow without even
blinking standing resolute as if the punch had never even happened. Worse yet
while Superman was in the air, as he had planned, he had grabbed the alien
around her neck locking his powerful steel like arms together intending to
initiate a full body slam.

Unfortunately for Superman and for the entire Planet the result of his
aggressive action was another epic comical debacle. Superman remained clinging
to her muscular neck like an overly amorous contortionist. She laughingly
turned the tables on him and body slammed the shocked and demoralized
Superhero onto the canvass. She and a very small contingent of Messierians in
the crowd counted aloud each time Superman bounced off the canvass stopping
when he and they reached five.

Had Ostara not been modern day Goddess then the actual Goddesses of Olympus
had reason to be jealous of the fabulous female who was dominating the
Kryptonian Superman seemingly without effort.

Superman was apoplectic knowing that despite his extra one-hundred pounds of
muscle and incalculable increase in speed and strength the imposing Junior had
been completely unfazed by his best efforts.

Even worse for him he was certain his right hand was now broken. The crowd
consisting of mostly earthlings slumped down in its collective seats fearing
the worst; fully expecting fifty more years of subjugation.

Seemingly undaunted by his initial failures the determined Kryptonian
scrambled to his feet and bravely shouldered on continuing with his relentless
attack firing left and right crosses to her head and body; utilizing his
elbows and knees and feet as he pounded on every inch of her granite like
self. Superman viciously head butted the bemused alien female which resulted
in a torrent of gushing blood pouring from HIS forehead and but not from hers.

He was becoming more and more agitated with himself. Ghastly memories from his
first fight consumed his mind. He was demoralized by his utter feebleness, and
frustrated by Junior Junior's haughty demeanor and her absolute total
indifference to his ineffectual onslaught.

Superman was loath to admit to himself what was patently obvious to everyone
else. He was literally helpless against her; impotent in every way imaginable.
Each time he landed a punch or a kick to her granite like body he inflicted
agonizing damage to his own hands to his own elbows and too his own feet. He
was hurting himself more than he was hurting her giving literal meaning to the
phrase ... this hurts me more than it hurts you.

He had never questioned the source of his invulnerability nor was he
questioning hers was convinced she was an actual Goddess; at the very least a
demi-goddess. Superman above all others understood invulnerability, understood
being impervious to pain, understood that both he and the planet were in deep
shit because compared to her he was impotent to the nth degree.

"Is that all there is?" She flexed and tensed her magnificent muscles before
flicking out a seemingly harmless left jab to his face which broke his nose
causing blood to spurt forth. "Oh dear." She arrogantly smirked at him. "Does
that hurt?"

"No." He lied.

"Oh." She laughed contemptuously.

"How about this?" She disrespectfully patted him on top of his head wound-up
and windmilled her right arm round and round seemingly in slow motion before
delivering her lethal right fist to his chin effecting the mother of all
uppercuts. The power of the blow lifted the 436-pound Superman at least three
feet off the mat sending him reeling head-over-heels across the ring before
crashing to the canvass shaking and quivering much like a freighted kitten, a
scaredy cat if you will.

Superman scrambled to his feet and mustered up all of his regenerating
superpowers and tried again unloading a second prodigious right hand at her
face. This time the muscular being who was faster than just fast thwarted its
forward momentum by swatting his super-powered haymaker away as if it were
nothing more than a common house fly.

She easily snatched his speeding punch from out of the air and squeezed his
fist mega-hard applying more than enough pressure to rebreak several bones in
his regenerating hand.

"Really." Her disrespectful laugh was condescending enough but her words of
utter distain directed at him were truly hurtful. "Fifty years of training and
preparation and you're the best this planet has to offer?"

"Please. Tell me the truth." Superman was pleading with her. "Are you a
Goddess?"

"Nope." She laughed. "Just a bitch."

"Fuck you." He knew not what else to say to her.

"In your dreams." Ostara flaunted her saucer sized pinkish areolas and placed
her erect nipples near his face.

"Fuck you, you fucking fuck." Superman repeated himself this time loud enough
for the crowd to hear.

Junior Junior easily lifted him to his feet, flung him against the ring ropes,
intertwined his quivering lifeless arms with the ropes, stepped back, and
watched as the Man of Squeal feebly attempted to extricate himself from his
rope prison. Ostara had drained every ounce of strength from the depleted body
of the one who still thought of himself as a Superman.

Many tearful spectators in the crowd exited in dismay knowing full well that
Superman their last hope was incapable of protecting himself let alone the
planet from the Messierian female invader.

Suddenly, Junior exited the ring by leaping over the top rope landing near a
stunningly beautiful young Messtierian girl, a girl that everyone immediately
recognized as the now infamous Aurora Cosmos from the You Tube video.

Junior Junior positioned the Cosmos girl directly in front of Superman and
encouraged her to have some fun.

"Gladly." First, the extremely confident grinning female counted aloud as she
unloaded exactly one-hundred and forty-four rapid-fire left and right-handed
punches to his stomach each more powerful and devasting than the one before.
His legs buckled several times but each time she grabbed him under his jutting
chin and kept him from falling. The five-foot-seven-inch girl proudly flexed
her astonishing 18 1/2 inch biceps to the astonished crowd.

The wanton teen warrior was virtually pulverizing his abdominal muscles not
stopping until the man's gut had been transformed from a seemingly
impenetrable muscular thickly slabbed eight-pack to an undulating blob of
gelatinous viscous flesh.

"It took me 144 punches but you really are gross." She pointed to his
diminished abs and intoned that scathing assessment. Then she breathed deeply
and proudly pointed to her own 12-pack and sneered at the inferior human. He
was alarmed as he recognized the unmistakable signs of yet another Messierian
Goddess in the making.

Then she demonstrated to the startled humans in the arena and those watching
on TV that even the smaller Messierian females were 'hell-a-strong' ... She
effortlessly lifted Superman's near lifeless 436-pound torso high over her
head, spun him around a couple of times, and then effected a number of amazing
one-handed bench presses laughing as his once muscular body sagged in the
middle.

When she pulled down the man's pants she was startled by the length and girth
of his enormous erection which was considerably larger than the largest of the
Messierian males. Superman was beyond terrified because he fully expected that
this ruthless alien hell-cat was about to rip off and consume his cock.

Cosmos glanced towards Junior Junior hoping for permission to do just that but
was disappointed when she was given a thumbs down. The green eyed beauty was
saddened when permission was denied her so instead Aurora began to tenderly
fondle, jerk, pull on, and knead his obviously excited cock.

"You may as well relax and enjoy." She giggled. "I'm pretty good at this." She
rubbed his pulsating penis against her extraordinary abs.

Superman feared that the woman-child might wrench his cock from his body but
decided to take her advice and relax. He readied himself determined to
appreciate what might be his last ejaculation.

Aurora Cosmos sensually glided her finger nails across the tip of his penis
and grinned as she watched his super sperm spurting skyward. She stepped aside
allowing Ostara to takeover. The alien superwoman easily lifted Superman high
over her head with but one hand and allowed the defeated man to experience the
final spasms of his ejaculation while hanging upside down.

"Superman." As she watched the dripping man wipe off his dick, Ostara flexed
menacingly and laughed derisively. "Pretty damn big, huh." She flexed and
pointed at her bicep. "This." She pointed at his now flaccid penis. "Not
that."

"Please stop." As tears flowed unabated from his blurring eyes Superman felt
ashamed knowing that he was once again failing humankind crushing the hopes of
everyone in the world.

"Stop?" She slapped him across the face. "I'm just getting started ... working
up an appetite."

All the while Superman was biding his time as his Kryptonian healing powers
were working overtime mending his many broken bones, torn ligaments, and
frayed tendons while at the same time regenerating his muscles returning his
super strength.

Now, all he needed was a plan of action.

His timing was perfect as he grabbed at and clutched onto her foot and shin as
she attempted to kick him once again. He stood up and lifted that leg high and
pushed the startled off-balance Ostara backwards and down to her back.

Superman jumped on top of her like a jungle cat, pressed his 400 plus pounds
down pinning her to the canvass and began to pound her face and body with a
barrage of devastating super powered rights and lefts. His confidence was
buoyed when he saw her turquoise-colored blood spurting from her nose, her eye
lids, and her mouth. Blood poured from her ears as he pounded then like a
demented symbols player on crack.

The crowd of mostly earthlings was cheering wildly as hopes of a victory
soared.

"Damn." Ostara wiped the blood from her face, laughed, and easily bench
pressed the 429-pound man off of her and flung him across the ring. "I hope
you enjoyed those brief moments of glory because it's never going to be that
good for you again."

"You do realize I can easily kill you whenever I wish. Not to worry that isn't
my immediate goal." She used her powerful right leg to sweep his feet out from
under him. She sat on his chest and placed her knees on his biceps effecting
an embarrassing playground pin. She punched him in the middle of his chest
taking his breath away whispering in his ear so only he could hear her words.

"My desire is to force you to audibly surrender to me ... force you to crawl
on your belly and kiss my bare feet and then tongue my spectacular ass ...
force you to plead and beg for your pathetic life ... force you to betray your
people and then for the piece de resistance ... I will force you to lick my
moist pussy."

"Never you bitch." The Kryptonian known to his many fans as the Man of Steel
cradled his now deformed hand against his body as he hopelessly struggled
beneath the powerful female unable to budge Junior Junior a single inch. "You
were unable to break my cousin and I won't allow you to break me either."

"Superman ... You poor clueless bastard ... You've already been broken."

She playfully tweaked his nose, cuffed his ears, and began to pummel his ribs,
his kidneys, and his liver with both of her piston like sledge hammer fists.
Should she decide to allow the earth man to live Superman would be pissing
blood for weeks.

"Do you want to die now or will you surrender to me instead?" Superman looked
into her cold coal black eyes knowing she was void of any form of mercy. She
wrapped her strong hands around his neck threatening to strangle the life out
of him. However, when she noticed he was silently turning blue from lack of
oxygen, she relented.

"Too easy buddy." The thoroughly thrashed and totally defeated sham of a
champion was breathless, gasping for air like a wheezing asthmatic at a smoke
filled Cheech and Chong concert hall.

Junior Junior took hold of Superman's ankles, lifted the 7-8 man high into the
air again. She held him upside down much as her grandmother had done to him
fifty years ago. She swung the completely vanquished diminished man round and
round before she slammed his broken beaten defenseless body onto the mat as if
she were cleaning a dusty carpet.

Perfectly emulating her grandma some more, Junior drove the man headfirst into
the ground over and over again until she had finally embedded his entire upper
torso into the ring mat leaving only his thrashing comically long legs
visible.

"Come on, super chump." She pulled him from out of his canvass prison by his
feet and double fisted his stomach further crushing what remained of his
regenerating abs. She smashed him in the face dislocating his jutting jaw and
then, from out of the blue, the six-foot-ten mega female initiated an open
mouth wet kiss nearly sucking his tongue from out his mouth.

"Superman; I want you to adore me." She squeezed his testicles and his steel
like cock until the man's tearing eyes crossed and his shlong spewed forth
munificent amounts of semen covering her palms and soaking her fingers. Ostara
coquettishly covered his face and mouth with her cum covered hands and forced
him to lick her palms and suck her fingers clean.

"Super chump." She smirked. "I bet that was hard for you to swallow."

Ostara was getting frustrated at the man's steadfast refusal to audibly
concede defeat. So, she ratcheted up her assault. She individually attacked
each and every one of his limbs rendering them useless. First, she violently
twisted his left foot destroying ligaments, tendons, and bone so that his foot
was facing in the wrong direction

Superman's screams were heart wrenching and the in person viewing audience
screamed along with him begging the ruthless Ostara to stop with the slaughter
and simply declare victory. She laughed as she repeated her act of butchery on
his right foot.

The crowd gasped again and actually cried aloud when she crushed virtually
every bone in each of his hands leaving the "Man of Squeal" a deformed shell
of his former self.

"Super twit." Ostara effortlessly throat lifted Superman off the ground and at
the urging of the crowd carefully lay the broken man on the canvas. "Your
legacy has been permanently tarnished. You will always be remembered, not as
the Protector of the Planet, but as the faux-superhero who quit on his
people."

"Face it dude. Whether you orally surrender to me or not the people of this
shit hole planet will remain under our 'benevolent' rule ... but orally
capitulate to me and at least you can continue to live."

"He incoherently mumbled something." She smiled to herself knowing she had
proffered an offer he couldn't refuse, knowing he had finally reached his
breaking point. Junior smirked as she watched Earth's champion groveling at
her feet seemingly attempting to kiss them.

Knowing that Superman was finished she nonetheless continued to demonstrate
her undeniable superiority by pinching the back of his neck until he screamed
like a distressed banshee.

"Speak up you pathetic loser." A slave to her unbridled hubris the alien was
showing off for the billions of Messierian viewers at home watching on
television. "Surrender Dorothy." Ostara moved her ear nearer to his lips.

Superman using every last ounce of his quickly regenerating Kryptonian super
strength seized the back of the genetically superior female's neck with his
deformed hand managing to pull her closer to him. He succeeded in raising his
head high enough off the ring mat high to use his strong Kryptonian incisors
to chomp down on the alien woman's neck ripping and tearing at her flesh like
a ravenous wolf instantly severing her carotid artery spewing forth copious
amounts of her bright turquoise-colored blood all over the mat as well as each
of them.

Ostara smashed the side of his head and immediately pressed her hands against
her blood spewing neck wound fruitlessly attempting to stop the inexorable
flow of her precious green colored life-giving fluids. Superman watched with
prideful relief as her body spasmed uncontrollably as she writhed on the
ground caught up in the death throes of the expiring alien being.

"Surrender my ass." Superman punctuated the end of the fight with some
additional words from the Wizard of Oz movie. "And your little dog too."

Superman, the Last Son of Krypton, vengefully submerged his face into her
gashed neck and began to chew on and then swallow chucks of her bloody flesh
as an homage to his fallen cousin. Not yet satisfied he further defiled her by
urinating on her corpse.

The shocked but jubilant audience in the stadium was dancing in the aisles,
standing atop their seats screaming, and applauding while spontaneously
breaking into song; nah nah nah nah hey hey hey goodbye ... nah nah nah nah
hey hey hey goodbye ...

The euphoria permeating throughout the venue was palpable. Meanwhile, the
entire population of planet earth was celebrating as only a free people can.

The occupying forces from Messier true to their word immediately began to
leave the planet in droves, abandoning their plans to remove two million
earthlings ...

Superman watched in utter amazement as the "twin towers' with which he had
been so impressed were in actually space transports now rocketing away from
earth into the atmosphere. Within a few short days the Messierians were long
gone. It was almost as if they had never even been there.

Having been liberated from the fifty-year oppressive rule from their ruthless
cannibalistic Messierian masters the people of Earth who were engendered with
unbridled enthusiasm commenced a weeklong celebration. The entire population,
well over eight-billion people, was experiencing ecstasy well beyond any level
of rational exuberance ever experienced on the planet while the rich and
powerful among them were already planning and scheming to attain dominant
positions of power and influence both in government and in business.

Achieving freedom after fifty years of servitude to the ruthless authoritative
rule of a callous oppressor triggered world-wide celebrations akin to multiple
Mardi Gras celebrations in New Orleans or numerous extended Holi observances
in India or Saint Patrick's Days in both Ireland and the U.S. or reveling in
seemingly never-ending Carnival festivals in Rio de Janeiro Brazil and other
Latin American countries not to mention a rather staid high tea brunch
celebration at a gathering of the Royals.

A still severely injured and incapacitated Superman was fittingly honored and
lionized for his sterling victory. He was celebrated as the hero he was. By
acclimation the grateful people of earth unanimously elected him to be
president or king or emperor of the world in perpetuity or maybe even longer.

Superman fully understood that his triumph was a pyric victory, a victory that
left the Man of Steel a thoroughly beaten man who would require months if not
years to recover from his injuries and regain his super-strength. He had
avenged the death of his cousin but had achieved a victory in name only, one
that would not likely be repeated were there to be a rematch.

However, like the rest of the world Superman rejoiced in the victory relishing
the idea of fifty years of sovereignty. The elation was tempered when from out
of nowhere a well muscled Aurora Cosmos and her mother appeared to Superman in
a vision, or was it a dream, or was it a disturbing hallucination.

Oh, no, no, no ... It was none of those things. It was a worldwide Television
broadcast reaching every square inch of the planet.

Aurora Cosmo ominously promised that in fifty years the Messierians would
return ... Managing to deliver a more than just passable Arnold Schwarzenegger
impersonation, Aurora made a promise to the world ... 'I'll be back'.

Not to be continued ... if we're lucky

THE YEAR 2075 ... 11,300 WORDS ... By the Elder Barry